Jack took a
long look
at his
speedometer before slowing down … 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in
as many months.
How could a guy get caught so often?
When his car had slowed to 10
miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop
worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car
will
tweak his backside
with a mirror.
The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.
Bob? Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench
coat. This
was worse than the coming ticket.
A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who
happened
to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy
he was about to play golf with tomorrow.
Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man
he'd never seen in uniform.
"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."
"Hello, Jack." No smile.
"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."
"Yeah, I guess."
Bob seemed uncertain. Good.
"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent
the rules a bit just this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the
pavement. "Diane said something
about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in
our precinct." Ouch. This was not going in the right
direction. Time to change tactics.
"What'd you clock me at?"
"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"
"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw
you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come
easier
with every ticket.
"Please, Jack, in the car."
Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door.
Slamming
it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the
window.
The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad.
Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the reason,
it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again.
A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a
folded
paper in hand.
Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob
to pass him the slip.
"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his
retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper.
How much was this
one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some
kind of joke?
Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:
Dear Jack,
Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six
when she was
killed by a car. You guessed it - a speeding driver. A fine
and three months in jail, and
the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of
them. I
only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can
ever hug
her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man.
A thousand times I
thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even
now. Pray for me. And please … be
careful. My son is all I have left.
Bob
Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the
road.
Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later,
he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and
hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.
Life is precious. Handle with care. Drive safely and
carefully. Remember, cars are not the only thing
recalled by their maker.
